


Sawdust and Biblichor

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: CrissColfer AU, M/M, bookstore owner!Chris, handyman!Darren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3156038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is opening a new bookstore, and he needs someone to build him some shelves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sawdust and Biblichor

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mav for the beta-reading and all the help. :)

When he’s a little kid, Chris’s grandmother takes him shopping with her. Young Chris isn’t really a big fan of shopping but he likes the chance to be out and going places without his parents and his sister, and she makes it worth it. At the end of every trip, she takes him into his favorite place in the world: the bookstore. She lets him pick out one book every time, and book he wants, and she makes him open them up and write the date that he bought it inside the cover. 

Each book becomes a memory that he treasures later on, once his grandmother is gone and when life gets a little dark. He’s never kept a journal or a diary but he has those books to mark the years of his life and all the memory that become associated with them, not just the stories inside the pages but the stories of him tangled within intangibly. 

Like so many people, he flounders in his late teens. He briefly tries acting but gets no roles, he briefly tries college but it can’t hold his attention. He goes to work for his father and he can’t even say he hates it, because hate requires some level of passion and connection that Chris just doesn’t have for it. He is achingly, impossibly neutral and it doesn’t take him but a couple of years to realize that the spark he’s always felt inside of himself, the motivation to do something more is being smothered out each day by khakis and a boring tie. 

This won’t be his life, he decides. Maybe he’s not destined for greatness on a global level but he can still be great by his own definition and he can still do great things even if he never leaves Clovis, California. 

He doesn’t quit his job with his father. Instead he asks for overtime and he picks up a second job at a bookstore on the weekends. He lives with his parents and he has the cheapest phone plan possible and he doesn’t go on trips or vacations or any of those indulgences that other people do. 

His life may not seem like much but he knows his day will come. 

*

It takes Chris six years of scrimping and saving and in the end it takes his grandmother's inheritance and almost every cent of his own money but he wakes up one morning on a Tuesday in March knowing he's finally ready.

He has the location picked out. He’s studied the retail market in the area. He’s spoken with other local business owners, including the bakery next door who seems keen on working with him. He has a business plan, put together with his father and some of his father’s friends who were willing to lend a few hours to help. He’s looked into all the zoning ordinances and done the calculations on what the location will need to make it bookstore ready and what’s in his budget. His parents are willing to invest if it comes down to needing it. He’s got everything ready for business licenses and tax forms. 

He’s _ready_. He’s ready for this life change. 

And it’ll be more than just the bookstore, too. The location he finally settled on is a house already renovated once to be a hardware store, some shelving and a nice sturdy counter and most importantly, a back half set up for someone to live in. 

Chris is already thinking that he’ll just use area with a kitchenette and bathroom attached as a little studio apartment and the other two rooms, originally bedrooms, as reading areas. 

The first time he stands in the middle of the gutted former-hardware store and realizes this place is _actually his_ , he almost cries. 

*

The first two things he needs to do, paperwork aside, are stock the store… and have somewhere to put the stock when he gets it. 

He’s lucky that they don’t really need any major renovations. The hardwood flooring is good, the countertops are good. He enlists the help of his sister and some of her friends to repaint the walls and pays them in pizza and a free movie. 

But he does need the shelving, and he wants quality work… which means not doing it himself. The price quotes he gets from professionals are out of his budget unless he wants to delay opening in favor of spending another month working with his dad, or ask his parents for more of an investment - and he doesn’t want to do that. 

So he turns to that ever faithful resource for life, the internet. 

He gets a lot of hits on craigslist, and calls a lot of references. In the end he goes with the one that has the best feedback and the fairest price. 

He calls a couple of the ones he’s been talking to and then in the end leaves a voicemail for D. Criss accepting his bid. 

*

Darren’s first day on the job is also Chris’s, officially. He’d given his notice at his dad’s office two weeks before, recognizing that there was no way he could continue to work there and still focus on getting the store up and running. 

He unlocks the door at seven thirty in the morning and spends an hour unloading boxes of his own personal belongings from the back of his car. He’ll sleep on a mattress on the floor and he’s only got a mini fridge but it holds his favorite soda and he’s pretty sure he’ll be getting well acquainted with pizza delivery boys. 

He’s just moving the last of the boxes in when his Craigslist handy man shows up. 

“Yo, anyone home?” The guy calls out. “Here to fix all your shiz!” 

“In the back…” Chris says, dropping the last box of his clothes and then heading back out into the main store area. “

He's not sure what he's expecting, but it's definitely not a bouncy little guy wearing blue plastic sunglasses and a tool belt. 

"Walk the Moon," Chris says, staring at Darren's t-shirt. What kind of repairman wears a band t-shirt to a job? Can this guy even lift the wood? Is he tall enough to install the top shelves? A half dozen other quickfire and less than flattering thoughts spit through his head before Chris reminds himself to react politely. 

Darren laughs. "Oh, man, they kick ass! You know them?" 

"Well, I've heard them," Chris says. He feels his own familiar brand of social anxiety setting in, because this guy isn’t exactly what he expected but he _is_ cute. Chris always feels nervous around people he’s attracted to, and he knows his own inclination to that is to go overboard in the opposite direction. 

He forces himself to smile for that reason. His mother used to tell him put his friendly face on. As an adult he’s learned to interpret that as _drop the bitchface_. 

"Sometimes I like to rock out while I'm working, maybe I'll put them on later." Darren walks past Chris and then looks around. "Okay, okay, cool. So what do we have going on here?" 

"I need... um. Shelving, mostly. I need a lot of shelving. This is going to be a bookstore." Chris still feels a swoop of nervous pride just saying that. “And potentially some work to the back rooms, but I’m on a budget so that’ll depend on how much this ends up costing me.” 

"Oh, awesome!" Darren grins at him. "So like, floor to ceiling shelving? We can totally do that.” 

Darren wanders around with a keen eye, pointing out places that look like they’d be good and occasionally knocking on the walls. Chris isn’t sure what it accomplishes but it looks professional enough. Maybe, he tells himself, this won’t turn out so badly after all. 

*

He sets Darren up working on what will be the main display area for new books. It’s in direct line of view from where Chris is working on book orders, partly because this is what’s most important so he wants it done first and partly so he can actually watch Darren’s work for the first few days and make sure what he’s doing is quality enough for Chris’s perfectionist ways. 

What he realizes not long in is that Darren actually _is_ pretty good at his job. 

He's also pretty good at talking, which normally Chris would be annoyed by but... well, his bias shifts when the person doing the talking is an attractive guy. 

He learns that Darren is a few years older than him, that he's a musician who likes to work with his hands. "I always had too much energy as a kid," Darren explains. He has his back to Chris, talking between nailing in brackets. Chris can see the flex of muscles in the dark blue t-shirt, slightly darker in areas where he’s sweating through. It’s… distracting. Just a little. "My parents had me learn so many instruments because I did better with a focus. I tried working in like, food places but you know, too much down time and I got into shit. I really like building things and having something to show when I'm done, and just being able to zone out and be done when I'm done, you know?" 

“My parents put me in an after school theater club,” Chris says, surprising himself by volunteering the information. 

“Oh, cool!” Darren half turns to grin at Chris. “I did drama all through school and some theater camps. I’m kind of a ham, in case you couldn’t tell.” 

Chris just laughs, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 

Darren launches into stories of summer camps and wardrobe malfunctions. Chris only has to nod and agree now and then. It's pleasant background sound as Chris pours over order forms for books and products he'll eventually line those shelves Darren’s building with. 

*

Darren leaves for half an hour for lunch. Chris microwaves cup noodles and eats top ramen while he tries to decide if it’s really worth it to have a used book section, or if he needs the profit of full retail price. 

This bookstore is important to him for a lot of reasons, and he wants to offer a variety… he _needs_ to be able to make money, but beyond that he wants what the bookstores his grandmother took him to never had. He wants to offer resources and a safe space for kids like the kind he was. 

He’s so lost in his browser full of dozens of tabs of LGBT YA and kids books when Darren comes back. “You like white chocolate macadamia?” He asks, dropping a shrink wrapped cookie on the counter. 

“Thanks,” Chris says, surprised at the small act of kindness. His mouth gets away with him when he asks, “Why-” 

Darren shrugs. “Who doesn’t like cookies?” 

“Oh.” Chris looks down at it, then starts to unwrap it, smiling a little. “Thanks.” 

*

It takes two days for Darren to finish the main display, and it looks so far beyond what Chris had even expected when he’s done. He even paints and coats the shelving for Chris, putting up with it admirably when Chris accompanies him to the paint store and spends forty five minutes deciding on colors. He ends up going for a rainbow theme, because it fits what he wants the store to represent and it’ll also be a nice way of organizing different types of books to different colored shelves. 

They walk out of the shop and load the paint cans into Darren’s truck. “Hey,” Darren says, pointing across the street. “You know that place?” 

It’s a little ice cream shop, something that’s popped up in the last few years. “I don’t think so.” 

“Well, I do,” Darren says. “They have the best pistachio.” 

“Ew,” Chris says, but his eyes catch the sign in the window. “Banana nutella, though…” 

Darren laughs. “More for you, buddy. But we should totally grab some.” 

“Sure.” Chris is in a great mood. He has to visit his lawyer later in the afternoon, but he figures he can afford half an hour. 

They sit at a two-person booth just inside the door with their ice cream. “This is amazing,” Chris says. The banana nutella scoops are topped with a sprinkle of hazelnut and drizzled with chocolate syrup. “I’ll have to spend an hour at the gym to make up for it, but it’s amazing.” 

“Please,” Darren says, waving his spoon a little. “Like you need the gym.” 

“I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or complimenting me,” Chris says suspiciously. 

Darren gives him a confused look. “Insulting you? How would that be an insult?” 

Chris shrugs. “I’m-” He’s suddenly self-conscious about the insecurity that must have been obvious in what he’d said. “Never mind.” 

“Well,” Darren says. “It was a compliment. Those guns? Come on.” He whistles low and reaches out to squeeze Chris’s bicep. 

“I was a chubby kid,” Chris admits. “And then when I finally had a growth spurt and lost the weight I was just scrawny and… weak.” 

“Well, you look fine to me now.” Darren says it with an innocent cheeriness that betrays no flirtatious intention… even though Chris maybe wishes it did. 

*

By the end of the week Darren moves onto to the floor to ceiling shelves. They require finesse still but not so much attention to aesthetic detail, not as much as the displays. 

It’s a warm day, even for California, and the front has better air conditioning than the back half. Chris tells himself that’s the only reason he’s not working in his back room. He also tells himself he’s just angling his stool toward where Darren is working to be polite, because it feels rude to look away when Darren talks to him sometimes. 

He’s still working on an excuse for the way he keeps getting completely distracted watching the sweat drip down Darren's temple and get lost in the stubble of his almost-beard. This position gives him a perfect profile view of Darren, and… yeah. Very distracting. 

Darren might be more slight than Chris had expected but over the hours they’ve spent together Chris has developed an appreciation for the lean muscle at play in his shoulders and arms, and the little grunting noises he makes when he has to push a saw through extra hard wood or slams a nail expertly home. 

"So how long do you think this whole project will take?" Chris asks. They'd discussed estimates before Darren actually started working, but not since. 

"You want those two walls done, right? And then I figured you probably intend on some along the center of the store.” Darren asks, turning around and moving down from the step ladder he’s been using. He gulps from a water bottle since he’s already taking a break to answer Chris. “I can build those for you.” 

“I thought I’d buy those and put them together myself to save money,” Chris admits. 

“You don’t want that cheap shit,” Darren insists. “You end up with something half particle board and it’ll fall apart within a couple of years. It’s one of those short time money saves that turns out to be a bad long term investment.”

“Well, factoring that in, then how long?” Chris asks. 

“Another week and a half,” Darren says. “I won’t be available Thursday, but if it’s a time crunch deal weekends are negotiable, it’ll just cost more.” 

"Four days next week is fine," Chris says. 

He's eager to get the store up and running, but he tells himself he's agreeing to the longer time frame just to make sure Darren doesn't feel so rushed he cuts corners. 

It's definitely not because he's already crushing and the idea of Darren being around for longer makes him happy. No way. And _certainly_ not because another week might be enough time to decipher the gay-or-straight clues. Nope. Not that at all. 

Darren gives him one of those big smiles that makes Chris feel a little giddy just for having it directed at him. “Awesome.” 

* 

Sometimes the time gets away from Chris. He’s always been like that when he’s focused on a project, and with nothing else to do but let himself get completely wrapped up in bookstore opening prep he becomes comfortable obsessing at least sixteen hours a day over the store. 

That’s the frame of mind he’s in when Darren leans over the counter Chris has been doing his work from. He seems to appear out of nowhere, and Chris jumps a little. "Oh my god," he breathes out. "You scared me." 

Darren laughs. "Sorry, man. It's half past five, I gotta head out. I just didn't want to disappear on you without saying goodbye." 

Chris puts down the book catalog. There are a lot of resources online, but he actually enjoys going through the paper catalogs a few publishers he contacted have seen him, too. He's just circled a couple, and he notices Darren curiously peering. Chris turns it over to show him. 

"I want to have a good LGBTQ section," he says. "It's... important to me. Being gay and all, and being raised in this town..." 

He hasn’t outright said that he’s gay, because he’s past the point in his life where saying the words out loud are a novelty or a challenge to anyone he meets. It’s a fact of his life but not one he needs to entirely define him. 

Except that being subtle about it does lead to situations like with Darren, where he’s _interested_ and has no idea if the person he’s interested in is of the inclination to potentially be interested back. 

Darren nods slowly, understanding in his eyes. “I’ve only lived here a couple years, but yeah I can see that. I mean, I grew up in San Francisco, so…” 

Chris desperately wants him to finish that sentence, but Darren doesn’t. “I bet that was nice,” he says, trying to dangle the bait a little more blatantly. 

“I loved it.” Darren smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I followed an ex here and ended up kind of stranded.” 

“Right,” Chris says. He briefly considers asking about the ex and seeing if he can provoke a pronoun, but decides that’s cheating. “Well, if nothing else, I want to try and make sure the gay youth in this town have some awesome stuff to read.”

"Well, I thought that one was pretty good," Darren says, pointing to one cover. "And I don't even read a lot, but my best friend had it and it kind of sucked me in." 

So either Darren has a gay best friend and will read anything when he's bored, or.... 

At least Chris can be reasonably sure now if he ends up asking Darren out, he won’t get punched in the face. That’s better than nothing. 

"Anyway," Darren says, pushing back off the desk. "See you Monday?" 

"Bright and early," Chris smiles back. 

*

Monday does come too early, but Chris is pleased with the amount of work he’s gotten done over the weekend. He’s ready to place orders for supplies and books, the chairs and couch he wants for the reading room will be delivered by the end of the week, and at some point in the day he expects the people making his sign to call him to come give it a final approval. 

He’s really going to do this, and he’s thrilled. He even makes a point of going to the bakery beside him just before he knows Darren will be there to grab half a dozen muffins. The leftovers will most likely end up being lunch or dinner, which is just fine with Chris. They’re ridiculously good and he’s thrilled with the potential partnership. He’s already been looking at display cases for baked goods for people that want to snack while they read, or browse. He could even do do coffee, eventually. 

But he reminds himself not to look too far ahead. He needs to keep himself reigned in to what is feasible for him in the short term. 

“Something smells orgasmic,” Darren announces as soon as he walks in, eyes landing on the bakery box. “And I’m guessing it’s coming from there.” 

Chris flips open the lid with one finger. “Take your pick.” 

“For real?” Darren’s eyes go wide. “You got a blueberry?” 

Chris points to it. “All yours.” 

“Sweet.” He takes a huge bite. “Oh, fuck, it tastes just as good as it smells. Thanks, man!” 

“You’re doing a great job, I figured… least I could do.” Chris shrugs sheepishly, though he’s really thrilled that Darren likes the gesture. 

“It’s easy to do a great job here.” Darren smiles at him, eating more slowly now. He looks like he shaved at some point over the weekend, his stubble lighter than it had been the previous week. It’s a good look on him. Too good - it’s hard for Chris not to stare, actually. 

His mother told him on the phone the night before that he needed to remember to get out and socialize. It’s never been Chris’s strong point, but he thinks she may be onto something. He’s happy but also a little stir crazy after a weekend of isolation. It might lead to rash decisions… like jumping his handyman. 

Chris coughs and turns to try and hide the blush to his cheeks at the thought. “Well, I’m glad.” 

“No, seriously,” Darren says, reaching out and touching Chris’s arm. Chris has noticed Darren being a casually touch-oriented person, but this is the first time he’s really done it on purpose. “You’re awesome to work for. I’ve had jobs where it was pure misery, people bitching at me and trying to hurry me up then complaining. Or jobs where they don’t even want to say hi, they just want to pretend I’m not even there while I work. Which, fair enough, if they’re paying me. But this past week barely even felt like work. You’re fun to be around, dude.” 

_Dude_ is far from a touching epiphet but Chris appreciates the sentiment anyway. “You’re fun to be around, too.” 

Darren finishes his muffin and tosses the wrapper into the little trash can beside the counter. “Well, maybe once I’m done working we can still hang out. Meet up for drinks or something?” 

Chris’s heart is suddenly pounding. Is Darren asking him out? He’s been down that road before, willfully misreading friendliness from a straight guy to feed a crush. 

Even if Darren just means hang out as friends, Chris tells himself, that’d be fine. Yeah, he’s attracted to Darren, borderline infatuated, but it’s more than just lust. Darren does seem like he’d be a good friend, and Chris… he could use more of those. “Yeah,” he says, and when he smiles he really means it. “I’d like that.” 

*

Despite the fact that he’s paying Darren to build shelves, Darren ends up helping him move the furniture in and rearrange it. 

The movers are fine with bringing the furniture in but they don’t at all leave it positioned in the way Chris wants. It’s not even in the right room, but it’s their last delivery of the day and they don’t mince words when explaining how not inclined they are to offer extra services. The truck arrives just before Darren is about to leave on Wednesday and when he offers to stay and help Chris, Chris initially says no. 

“I can’t actually afford you for any extra hours,” Chris admits. 

“Pro bono,” Darren says. “I have nothing else to do tonight, man, don’t worry. Buy me dinner or something, order a pizza maybe?”

“Yeah?” Chris asks, grateful. He could always call his dad to help, but his dad has a bad back and he’d rather not. 

The idea of a few extra hours with Darren isn’t exactly unappealing, either. Chris is really focusing more on wanting the furniture in place than anything else, but later once it’s in all order and they’re waiting on pizza he has time to appreciate the turn of good fortune. 

Darren makes himself comfortable, sprawling out on the new couch. His knees hook over one arm, feet dangling safely over the edge where they won’t get anything dirty. “I could totally sleep here,” he says. “This is awesome.” 

“The chairs are good too,” Chris says. 

“Isn’t that bad for business? Encouraging people to sit and read stuff they haven’t bought?” Darren asks. 

“Maybe,” Chris says. “But I still like the idea of it. I want it to be… comfortable.” 

“Well, I think you’re nailing that vibe.” Darren yawns into his hand. “I’ve already told all my friends how awesome this place is gonna be.” 

“Really?” Chris is pleased to hear that. He slouches further in the chair, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I can’t wait until it smells like books.” 

“So this is the dream, yeah?” Darren asks, turning to look at him. Chris gets a painfully vivid flash of this same scene but set in a different moment for _them_ , a warm and inviting Darren sprawled out just waiting for Chris to come cuddle in beside him… 

Wow, it’s been a while since he’s had a boyfriend. 

“It is.” Chris answers him. “Has been for years. What’s your dream?” 

He asks on a whim, but it’s a good question. That becomes obvious as soon as Darren answers. “Music.”

“I remember you mentioning you play,” Chris says. 

“I want to make albums, I want to play live, I just want… music.” Darren sits up a little. “You should let me play in here some time. Do like, a weekly thing. This room would be great for a little living room concert.” 

Chris has to be careful not to immediately say yes before he thinks about it as a business decision, despite the fact that his heart right now is screaming yes.

“We’ll see,” he says, then adds, “You could at least come play for me sometimes.” 

“Oh yeah?” Darren’s smile goes a little more wicked. “You want a private concert, Chris?” 

And _oh_ that tone goes straight to Chris’s dick. “I… I wouldn't’ be opposed,” he says, careful as he always is when flirting, yet completely exhilarated by the daring turn of conversation. 

There’s a knock on the door. Darren stays where he is, looking at Chris with an expression that’s amused and definitely interested. “Pizza’s here.” 

“Yeah, I’ll just… go get that.” Chris swallows and gets to his feet. 

*

Darren keeps to his word about finishing by Friday. Chris isn’t sure if he should be happy about that or not. The flirtation from a few nights before lingers heavily in his mind but it’s at war with his eagerness to get finished and get his store opened, so he makes a point of not interrupting Darren while he’s working. 

But by Friday afternoon, he’s watching as the last of the shelving units goes up and he feels as jittery in a way that has nothing to do with the steady stream of caffeinated soft drink into his system. 

“Well,” Darren says, stepping back to check his word one last time. “I think you’re done.” 

“Wow,” Chris says, walking over. He stands shoulder to shoulder with Darren. “They look amazing.” 

Darren bumps their arms together. “Gonna look even better with books on them.” 

Chris smiles so hard his cheeks almost ache with it. “This time next week….” 

“That’s so fucking awesome. I mean, it already looks like a legit store in here.” Darren looks around. 

Chris does the same, trying to picture it through fresh eyes. The computer and cash register at the front counter are there now. The empty wall spaces are decorated with some framed posters he’d picked out, covers of his favorite books. One small room off to the side is brightly decorated for children, with shelves smaller to the ground and a toy castle set up on a table with all sorts of fairy tale figurines - knights and princes and princesses and dragons - to play with. The room further in the back has darker walls, a more subtle mature look to it and will house the used collections. 

Darren was right about his handmade shelves looking better. They’re also tailored to the rooms in a way Chris would never have been able to replicate ordering online, and he suspects Darren is cutting him a deal because they didn’t even cost insanely more. 

“So what are you naming it?” Darren asks. 

“Oh! Let me show you.” Chris goes around to the store computer, pulling up his email. “The sign won’t be here until next week, but…” 

He loads the proof image. The letter is gold with a green border around it: _The Land of Stories_. 

“I love it,” Darren says. Chris feels a faint tickle against his arm followed by a more solid pressure… then Darren’s fingers tangling with his, squeezing. 

Darren’s holding his hand. 

“Thanks,” Chris says, turning his head slightly to the side. 

“So.” Darren’s so close Chris can smell the faint musk of sweat. “Do I get to help you celebrate your opening?” 

“I… would like nothing more,” Chris says, and he waits just a few moments more to convince himself he isn’t reading the situation wrong before leaning in to close the distance between their mouths. 

*

“We can’t fuck on this couch,” Chris says, pushing at Darren only to urgently pull him back in. “My customers are going to use this.” 

Somehow this is where they’ve ended up, through staggering steps and desperate kisses. Darren’s on top, hips rocking down against Chris’s. 

“Shit,” Darren curses, pulling his mouth from Chris’s neck. “Then there-” 

“The back. I live there, I’ve got a… well, not a bed, but-” 

“Horizontal surface?” Darren asks. Chris nods. “Then let’s go.” 

Chris laughs as Darren hauls himself up and then grabs Chris by both of his hands to pull him up, too. 

Darren laughs hard when he sees Chris’s little room. “Well, you said it wasn’t a bed.” 

“Are you complaining?” Chris bites at Darren’s lip and then slides his hand down the front of Darren’s pants to squeeze his cock. 

“No. Nope. No, no, no no complaining going on here at all.” Darren rocks his hips up into Chris’s hand eagerly. Chris grins against the kiss and maneuvers them until they’re near his make-shift mattress on the floor that is counting as sleeping area. 

There is really no sexy way to get Darren back onto the mattress. It is too low to the ground for Chris to push Darren back onto, he’ll end up bruising Darren’s tailbone or something and that really isn’t the way he wants that to happen. They could stop and undress and then crawl onto the mattress but Chris is pretty sure that anything that involves him and crawling will never be remotely attractive. 

He’s thinking so hard about how to even do this he forgets to keep his hand moving against Darren. It takes him a minute before realizing that Darren has pulled away and is just watching him, fondness on his face. 

“Uh, I was just… I mean, bed and how do you…?” Chris trails off as he gestures down to his bed. 

“Like this.” Darren’s eyebrows do a dumb little dance and reaches over and jerks on Chris’s t-shirt, pulling it up and off and tossing it aside before latching his mouth on to a spot low on Chris’s neck and sucking. 

“Oh… like, like that I…” Chris scrambles his fingers weakly against Darren’s back, trying to grasp onto his shirt to pull it off. 

“Quit thinking so hard.” Darren’s lips travel up the column of his neck to kiss Chris more firmly. “Sex should involve a lot less thinking.” 

“Clearly you’ve never had to worry about where to put it.” Chris grins in between kisses. 

Darren barks a laugh and rolls his hips hard into Chris’s, grinding against him. “Oh, if you don’t know where to put it, I’ll show you. I’m… _handy_ like that.” 

“That is so bad,” Chris says, snorting… but he appreciates the teasing. It is comfortable and familiar and makes this feel all the more real. It also helps Chris focus on what he’s doing so he’s finally able to get Darren’s own shirt off and quickly moves on to the buckle on his belt. “I almost wish you were still wearing the tool belt.” 

“Next time I will, just for you. The tool belt and nothing else.” Darren grins down at where Chris’s hands are moving, flicking open the leather belt and then pushing the flaps of his jeans aside. Chris pushes two fingers in to rub them against the bulge of Darren’s half-hard cock, nothing but bare skin at his fingertips. 

“You hussy. Did you do this just for me, or do you always work commando?” Chris practically whines, staring down as he tugs Darren’s dick out and starts to work his hand around it. It’s a nice one, thick and eager and glossy wet around the tip already. 

“Why, you like it?” Darren asks. “You think it’s hot?” 

There’s something brazen about Darren like this, completely unsurprising to Chris. “I think you’re hot.” 

“I guess that works out well for both of us, then.” Darren leans in to kiss Chris on the mouth one more time, then drops to his knees. He makes short work of Chris’s pants and then shoves his boxer briefs down just far enough to get where he wants. 

It becomes obvious from the start that Darren is clearly a man who enjoys giving head. There are a couple of starts and stops as they find the right angles and Darren gets used to it but he laughs, talks, teases, but he also sucks like he was born to do just that. 

Chris doesn’t even realize how close he is until his orgasm is right on him. He’s got both hands cupping Darren’s head and his breath stutters. “Oh, I’m… _fuck_...” 

Darren pulls off and strokes him through the end, letting Chris come on him… mostly on his neck and chest but the first more powerful spurt his hits chin and Chris will never get over how hot Darren is with come in his almost-beard. 

When Chris is done, Darren grabs his t-shirt and quickly wipes up with it before laying back on the mattress. His cock is still jutting out of his jeans and he props himself up on his elbows. “A little hand, here?” 

“Hand, hmm?” Chris kneels on the mattress beside him. He reaches deliberately past Darren, the wet tip of Darren’s cock rubbing against his stomach in a way that makes Darren’s hips twitch up to get more friction - but it’s fleeting, since Chris is only grabbing the lube he has stashed between the edge of the mattress and the wall. 

“Oh, use that often do you?” Darren’s teasing and his hips are jerking up into Chris as he is desperate to find some kind of friction. “Use it recently, hm? Maybe think about a certain handyman that was helping you out?”

Darren clearly has mouth that doesn’t stop and an ego to match. Chris might be annoyed if not for the orgasm he’s still reeling from. 

“Did I find you in the for hire section or the personals?” Chris asks, slicking up his hand and tossing the bottle aside. 

Strangely enough, the cocky attitude gets a rest once Chris starts jerking him off. It seems to be traded in for grunts and groans and low, rough utterances of both a profane and occasionally religious nature. 

Chris is already willing to bed Darren has more sexual experience than he does, so he’s fine with putting the return blowjob off until next time. Assuming there will be a next time - which Chris will, for now, just out of a sense of sheer come-dumb optimism. 

He straddles Darren and leans over him to press their mouths together in an open, needy kiss. Darren reacts to that, surging him and fucking into Chris’s loose circled fist while licking against his tongue. It is dirty, filthy so fucking good. Chris rides Darren’s hips, his hand jerking in time with the thrusts and kissing him back. He is so good--they are so good together. Chris is definitely going to need a round two later. 

“Come on,” Chris urges, voice lower than it usually ever is. “Come for me, come on.” He’s never really been one to talk dirty, not to the other guys he’s been with, but Darren… well, he’s inspiring. “Come on Darren, want you to come so hard for me. Let me see it.” 

That is apparently all the encouragement Darren really needs. Chris stills his hand, making Darren work for it even more. Darren plants his feet and moves his his body at a fast, smooth clip. He’s clearly showing off what his hips are capable of and Chris is lightheaded imagining how good that’ll be when Darren is buried deep inside of him, or riding him. 

Darren’s head falls back and he groans, deep as he comes over Chris’s hand. As soon as he’s coasting down, Darren starts to laugh. 

“Fuck. Wow. _Yeah_.” He turns and cups Chris’s face with a sweaty hand, pulling Chris into a kiss. 

“So,” Chris says, smirking a little when he pulls away… though he doesn’t go far. “I hope that one was off the books, too.” 

“Oh, damnit, you beat me to it. I was gonna make a joke about good employer benefits…” Darren laughs. 

“You can have the next pun,” Chris promises. 

Darren leans back against the mattress. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

*

Chris is exhausted, but he can’t remember ever being this happy in his life. 

“I’m so glad you did this,” his mother says, wrapping him up in a big hug. “This is just wonderful.” 

“It wasn’t my idea,” Chris says. 

The launch party is an amazing success. The store is packed with people. They’re everywhere - sitting on the couches and chairs talking, perusing the shelves, gathered around the tables full of snacks from local businesses. There’s no way Chris could have ever done this, no way he’d have had enough connections to fill the place like this or get all of the sponsored food and door prizes. He couldn’t have done it in a month, let alone a week. 

But it turns out when Darren Criss is on your side, he’s there a hundred and ten percent… even if you’ve only been dating for approximately seven days. It’s definitely better than flowers and candy, Chris has to admit. 

“Oh, right.” His mother smiles and looks around curiously. “And where is this new fellow of yours? You promised we could meet him tonight.” 

 

“You’ll see him in just a minute,” Chris says. “He’s in the back getting ready.”

“Ready?” His mother asks. 

Chris grins. “He’s the musical entertainment for tonight. Actually, I better go check on him…” 

He weaves his way through the people and loud conversation to the back room, blocked off with a Private sign. Darren’s sitting cross-legged on the mattress tuning his guitar. 

“Have I thanked you again for this?” Chris asks. 

Darren smiles at him and gets to his feet. He grabs Chris’s hand and gives him a soft kiss. “Only about a million times. I keep telling you, it was nothing to throw together.” 

“Liar,” Chris says fondly. 

“Well, I try to do my best for all my employers.” Darren kisses him again, deeper and longer. “I figure this way you’ll write me a really kickass reference, right?” 

Chris rests his forehead against Darren’s. “Yeah, I guess I can do that.”


End file.
